Microfiction
The Girl Who Borrowed Time
"The Girl Who Borrowed Time" She ordered a croissant and a black coffee when she first entered my café, and then she gave me a piece of blood-stained paper. It said, "The man in the trench coat is not here for the espresso, so don't serve him."
By Francis Royce about a year ago in Fiction
The Skylight Room
Once upon a time, in the heart of a bustling city, stood an old boarding house on a quiet, winding street. Among its many rooms, nestled at the very top, was the smallest yet most enchanting of them all—the Skylight Room. The room was tiny, barely large enough to fit a single bed, a wooden chair, and a small desk. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in charm. A single skylight, framed by weathered wooden beams, opened up to the heavens, offering a breathtaking view of the stars at night and the sun's golden embrace at dawn.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma
The Godforsaken City was a ruin of dripping steel and crumbling stone, a haphazard maze tangled in webs of rusted pipes and steaming vents. Once known as Boston, it had long since surrendered to entropy, rebuilt by desperate hands into a dystopian patchwork of crime and survival.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻about a year ago in Fiction
The Last Storm. Top Story - February 2025.
Listen to your heart. Michelle Liew ************************************************ He'd survived worse. He always did. James, a cantankerous, stubborn old man, had lived in the same cabin in the woods all his life. The howling echo of the wind and rain deluges made their presence constant, as did the still, eerie silence. James glanced toward the storm, hearing its deceptive call.--it carried something strange, unspoken.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Linabout a year ago in Fiction
Gathering Pink Dye. Content Warning.
Gathering Pink Dye The cliffs of MoonSnail Cove loomed before them, jagged and treacherous. Waves crashed against the frozen rocks below, sending sprays of icy mist into the bitter air. Quaraun leaned heavily on his cane, his lame leg throbbing with each step.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻about a year ago in Fiction
Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City
Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City The smell of anise taffy being pulled, thick and sugary, wafted from the lighthouse kitchen, a rare scent of sweetness in a world frozen by the eternal chill.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻about a year ago in Fiction
